


World on Fire

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:03:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>with Cas fallen and Sam ill, things are really looking out of shape. this is an alternate storyline picking up where s8 left off (saving ppl, hunting things, y'know), and frankly, it quickly transforms into a Destiel fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. things'll never be the same again

**Author's Note:**

> okay, this is set between season 8 and 9... i actually can't believe they kicked Cas out, so... here's my version  
> oh yes and it's a bit smutty.  
> (main title from Slash's album, the others are Rubens, Beatles, Elvis and AC/DC song titles in a bit twisted way.)  
> oh and yes, Crowley is in as a character but he's never saying anything. he's just brought up too much.

_I was forced to change... not sure who to thank..._

Dean flicked the radio off with the expression of disgust. He'd rather sit in silence for hours, if this is what's on their tracklist. He took a sip of his coffee, and collapsed onto one of the chairs beside the library table. It was around 2 AM, and he cursed at the thought he'd needed sleep. Sammy was dying. He cursed at the Men of Letters for not having appropriate solutions for this, he cursed at the angels for falling, he cursed at Castiel for hours before he realized he must have fallen too... Sammy was dying. And no one he knew could help that.

He wondered if making a deal with Crowley - who was quietly sitting in the basement - would make a difference...

He slammed the book shut, what almost caused it to fall off the table, and stood up. He was frustrated and angry, at the whole world but especially himself. He popped his knuckles, picked up his jacket and the car keys, and exited the Bunker.

He loved driving. And the Impala wasn't just any car, it was his, with every fiber of it. He tried to listen to the sweet roaming of the engine, he tried to focus on loving the drive, these things always calmed him; he tried and tried but just couldn't. Pictures of his nightmares kept floating into his vision - he had to hit the brakes because he thought he saw Cas falling, right in front of him. He saw Sammy in the hospital, barely alive, and he saw Death himself, sitting next to him, silently observing.

"Hello, Dean" he said, in a casual, neutral tone. Dean never bothered answering to a hallucination.

"It's almost time to let your brother go" Death said. His neutral tone seemed a bit more personal this time. Dean grunted.

"Almost" he said, mimicking the older one's tone and expression. He didn't give a rat's ass about being impolite with the oldest thing in Creation. Also, he strongly believed - he tried to convince himself - that Death was a pure hallucination, caused by his sleep deprivation, none other than that. He refused to believe Death has come himself to talk about his brother's death. No chance.

He slammed at the dashboard with his fist, turning on the radio. Some AC/DC song was on, he never really remembered which one, but he turned up the volume and tried to focus on the road. They sat like this for about ten minutes, then, all of a sudden, the music went mute, and the radio blacked out. Death raised a hand.

 _"Save him!"_ Dean grunted before Death could say anything else. "Save him or I'll bind you again and then you'll have no choice but do as I wish..." He trailed off. He was exhausted, he was worried about his little brother. He certainly didn't have the energy to convince Death of such a thing. Death remained silent, observing Dean's face for a minute then disappearing.

"YES! GO AHEAD! HOW many times did I do a FAVOR for YOU, huh? Go and run! When it comes to the end of the world or anything, sure, just call the Winchesters! They'll happily sacrifice themselves for greater good! But ah, no, when I have one little favor to ask for, and not for myself, but my _brother,_ then you're all sorry because YOU can't save him, huh, angels, or Death, or anyone! Go ahead and make sure I make a deal just to see him live!"

He didn't even realize he was crying, as he shouted his way into the parking lot of the hospital. He just ripped out his keys of the ignition, ignoring the fact that he took up two or three spaces by just rolling in and leaving the car almost parallel to the curb. He slammed the door and tried to wipe his tears off his face. He inhaled and exhaled, slowly, trying to let go of the tension. He shook his head, wiped his face once more, and went up to Sammy's room.

As he walked along the pale yellow hallways, he felt sick. He was nauseous about seeing Sammy, he was anxious because Sammy could have already passed. This little chat with Death brought up new fears. He was close now, maybe five-four meters to Sam's door, and he slowed down. He didn't want to see the empty bed and the pale nurses pulling down the sheets. As he entered, his eyes welled up with tears again.

"Sammy?" His voice hoarse, his legs shaking.

Sam was sitting in his bed, shoving large amounts of food down his throat; all the pipes and machines gone, just a little monitor beeping from time to time, showing his extremely normal and healthy heartbeat frequency. He looked up as Dean has come in, smiled a little and went back to eating.

Dean couldn't even manage to wince a word out. He was staring for a good five minutes before he tried to form a sentence, cut off by an arriving nurse.

"Oh, you're Dean, right? I'm Sally. You taking him home?" She smiled adorably. Dean managed to say "uh, yes" and a nod, so the nurse started turning off the monitor and giving Sam his clothes he arrived in. "He still needs some rest" she added, "we're not so sure how he recovered so fast. I guess it's what you guys do" she smiled at them. She checked him out, handed them a file and hugged Sam.

"It was _so nice_ to meet you, Sam" she said, then left.

"What was that about, tiger?" Dean asked, almost jokingly. He wasn't over Sam's magical awakening yet.

Sam murmured something that could be interpreted as "She's a  _Supernatural_ fan" but Dean was not really paying attention. If he had been, he'd probably be pissed off how _all_ the fangirls are crushing on Sam, but now he just silently apologized and thanked Death.

 


	2. twist, shout & nonexistent feelings

A week later, Sam was still very fragile. Upon first seeing him, Dean had thought Sam was okay, but in reality, he was far from it. He spent the day mostly sleeping, as he could only remain awake for five hours or less. They fell into this odd routine, Sam waking up at ten or eleven AM, Dean bringing him some breakfast, then Sam drifting off to sleep again. He would come down at the library or the kitchen when he woke up again, three hours later. Sometimes they talked a bit, Sam commenting on Dean's motherly instincts, or Dean commenting on Sam's bed hair. But then, Sam went back to sleep and Dean was left all alone with his fears of losing his brother.

It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon, Dean was sorting trough his gun collection and Sam was, of course, sleeping. Dean was thinking about the Fall, he was thinking about where Cas could be, and why he hasn't contacted them yet. He even tried to pray. Nothing. As he cleaned his guns and placed them next to each other, he lost himself in the monotony of the act. His thoughts trailed off, and he would not even admit to _himself_ what kind of thoughts these were, let alone mentioning them or even hinting them to others. He shook his head and decided to get groceries, as they were running low on pretty much everything, especially beer.

He slammed his keys into the ignition, listening to the soft roar of the engine, ever louder as he stepped on the gas. Within six minutes, he was in town - a good Metallica song hasn't even been over yet - and turned his engine off. For a moment he could have sworn he saw Castiel on the edge of the curb, loitering as if he was waiting for someone. But it wasn't Cas... Frankly, Dean wasn't sure if it was him or not. First of all, the trenchcoat was missing. The... guy, whoever he was, was wearing a red vest, sort of jacket, really, and jeans. Cas and jeans? Dean giggled, and went off in the other direction, and entered the grocery shop.

Coming out, he got real pissed off seeing the guy leaning against his baby's hood, but after a blink he was sure he's never been this happy in his entire life. He put the groceries down on the hood and gave Cas the most rib-breaking, squeezy bear hug he could imagine. Cas lightly coughed.

"Uh, Dean-" Dean awkwardly stepped back. His eyes met Cas' for a second, but he looked away, breaking the contact. He remained silent under Cas' gaze. "It's good to see you." He said.

"Yeah, man, where've you been?" Dean asked, almost accusingly.

"Metatron, he-" Cas took a deep breath. "I lost my grace."

"Sorry to hear that." Dean paused. "C'mon, I'm gonna take you home."

"Dean, I don't have a home." Castiel admitted, looking everywhere but Dean's eyes.

"You've been homeless for this past three weeks?!" Dean blurted, anger overflowing him. "Why didn't you call?!" He sighed. "I was thinking to get you home to ours anyways. Get in."

The ride "home" was silent and uncomfortable. Dean wouldn't turn on the radio, Cas wouldn't say a word. They stopped at a red light, and looked at each other. Cas slowly reached out and turned the radio on.

_WELL, SHAKE IT UP, BABY!_

"Jesus, Jesus, the volume, Cas!" Dean jumped.

"My apologies."

_Twist and shout... C'mon, c'mon, c'mon baby..._

"What is this song, Dean?" Cas asked, tilting his head as he listened. Dean growled a little.

"It's Beatles. It's old" he said, switching the stations, so that they were listening to Led Zeppelin now.

"Is... everything all right? Cas looked at Dean asking this.

Of course. Of course everything was all right. Except the fact that Dean had been thinking about Cas since he was woken in the middle of the night at his nightmares. And oh, these weren't the worried kind of thoughts. Dean had made up his dirtiest sex fantasies, despite the fact he was actually disgusted by the thought he could be gay, even bi.

And now, as they passed the intersection, Dean pulled over without thinking. Cas looked confused, but never said anything. Dean grabbed  him and kissed him, just like that, and it surprised both of them that Cas kissed back and it turned out to be a fifteen minute-long, heated battle of their tongues. Suddenly Dean pulled back.

"This _never_ happened."

He started the car and they sat in complete silence, listening to the radio, until Beatles came on this station too.

"Come on, man!" Dean said, frustrated. He turned it off.

"I liked that." Cas said, and as Dean wasn't sure what he was talking about, he never answered.


	3. oooh, such a kiss

The following three weeks were extremely unpleasant. Dean had tried his best to avoid Cas, and, despite Cas' efforts, he had succeeded. Sam was utterly confused, but never said a word.

He still needed at least twelwe hours of sleep, but in the few hours he was awake, the tension in the Bunker was unbearable. Even Crowley felt it, it was bleeding into every millimeter of the building. Dean and Cas didn't talk, not even a word, and they both blamed the other. Cas didn't understand a moment of it all, and was angry at Dean for confusing him. These new, human feelings were bad enough without him messing around anyways, and now Cas felt lost in this thunderstorm of human emotions.

Dean, however, didn't give a fuck about it. He cursed the moment he felt that desire to kiss Cas, and he swore it wouldn't happen ever again. And then he figured it would be best to forget it and go on. But God knows it wasn't easy. Every time he caught a glimpse of Cas, he felt lust flowing through him, he felt the tension building up inside him, and when he closed his eyes for a second, he felt the desire, he felt Cas' lips against his, soft and tender. And he hated all of it. He was straight, he  _knew_ he was, and felling for Cas was way out of his comfort zone.

Sam and Cas only noticed that Dean was consuming unbelievable amounts of porn, and spending several nights out. This Thursday evening, Sam wasn't even surprised that he heard how the outer doors of the Bunker swung shut and how the roar of Baby tore into the night.

"What's up with him?" he asked Cas, who was sprawled out on the couch. He picked up human behaviours quite fast.

"He... uh, he kissed me." Cas said, clearing his throat. 

Sam choked. He was drinking coffee, in spite of the fact it was eight PM - it was not going to keep him up anyways.

"He what?!"

"I don't know why he's been acting like this" Cas added, sitting up."It confuses me."

"I bet" Sam coughed, still not sure what to think. It was somewhat logical, yet it blew his mind. Dean. His brother. His very heterosexual brother kissed Cas because he was so happy to see him.

"Was it a small kiss?" he asked. Cas looked up, shook his hand slowly.

"No. It was rather... heated."

Well, all the staring contests and eye-sex made sense to Sam now. It was indeed logical: Dean fell for Cas. As long as he ignored the fact that it was Dean, his heterosexual, almost homophobic brother, it made perfect sense.

"I'm very confused." Cas added.

"Cas, you're a celestial being with basically  no sexuality. This whole thing must be new." Sam tried to comfort him, as he looked so broken, sitting on the couch.

"That is the reason I don't see a difference between loving him or April."

"What? April? Who is that?" Sam smirked.

"She's a reaper I met while I was homeless."

Before Sam could have commented, they heard Dean arriving. Cas stiffened, and Sam suddenly disappeared, practically ran in the direction of his room.

"Hey, Cas" Dean said, his voice deep and hoarse, his eyes glowing a bit, hinting that he's been drinking.

"Hello, Dean." He said, carefully keeping a neutral tone. And then, Dean was all over him. He felt the taste of cheap beer in his mouth and the smell of cigarettes, and he knew Dean would regret this later, but he just couldn't care less. He was drunk too, on the feeling of Dean's lips on his mouth, hovering on his neck and biting him.

"Dean-" he managed to get the word out, causing Dean to stop for a second.

"Shit, Cas, I'm sorry" he said, standing up. He exited the room, leaving a very confused and aroused Cas on the couch.

Ten minutes later Cas decided it would be best for him to get some sleep - he never got used to that - and went upstairs to his room, or at least tried to. The thing stopping him was none other than Dean Winchester, laying on his bed only in his olive green boxers, mouthing the word "Cas".

Cas entered. He closed the slightly opened door behind him, causing Dean to look up.

"Somethin' wrong?" Dean asked, trying desperately to sound casual.

Cas bobbed  his head, no, there was nothing wrong. It was just this strange fire lit inside him, this strange and unknown sensation of need. He slowly stripped most of his clothes, and in his tee and boxers, he slid in the bed, next to Dean, actually ashamed  of his own boldness.

But it was too late for both of them to care. Dean rolled on top of Cas, kissed him until they were both breathless, rolled their hips together until they were both shaking at the littlest touch. He went on, kissed Cas' jawline, bit his neck and left a nasty bruise on his left collar bone. Cas felt Dean's hands, traveling up and down his sides, his chest. He rolled them over almost mindlessly, and soon after Dean's surprise faded, Cas was working his way down on him, kissing,.sucking and biting. Dean lifted his hips a bit and Cas pulled down his boxers, stunned at the sight of Dean's erection. Dean let out a small, almost inaudible groan resembling something like "Jesus, Cas". 

He knew he'd regret this later.


	4. shaking - all night long

Sam sat up in his bed. His heart was still racing because of the dream he just had. He heard Dean shouting, Cas screaming - he was still shaky at how real it all seemed.

A loud thud jumped him out of the bed. Something was off, and he liked to know what was going on around him - he grabbed his gun and went to find the source of the sound. Oh, he shouldn't have gotten up in the first place. Now he heard continuous throbbing, as if someone slammed something into the wall periodically. He started to get very suspicious, and when he confirmed the origin of the sounds, he turned around and _tried_ to go back to sleep.

Two rooms away Dean was taking away Cas' last bits of holiness, to say the least. He made him scream, he made him moan, he made him beg, both to stop and to continue. At first it all seemed weird, kissing someone that muscular and definitely not feminine, but he got the hang of it. Especially after he convinced himself that Cas wasn't really a guy - how did he phrase it?  _Multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent?_ It wasn't entirely homosexual to bang a (former) angel of the Lord. It was downright blasphemous, on the other hand.

Dean pushed a finger inside Cas, making him moan and arch his back. He continued giving him small kisses along his lower abdomen, and Cas made some sort of screeching noise, definitely a wince of pleasure. Dean took his cock in his mouth, smirking a little, as he heard Cas' breath hitch.

"Dean-"

Dean didn't answer, just added another finger. Then another. At this point, Cas was shaking from head to toe, and moaned words that weren't understandable, but sounded very much Enochian. Dean reached out for the lube which he kept in the drawer of the nightstand - you know, just in case - and lubed himself up. He separated Cas' legs and slowly, carefully entered him. He started moving, slow first, but he lost control after a minute and sank himself in Cas entirely.

(That was the point where Sam found the source - _sources -_ of the suspicious sounds. Cas didn't manage to close Dean's door properly, and when Sam came to check, he quickly left with the urge to throw up.)

 

 _Oh, COME ON, it's two in the morning,_ Sam thought as he woke up again. For the second or third time this night. He was pissed off, because pretty much the whole Bunker was shaking. He was sure even Crowley knew what was going on, and frankly, he was embarrassed because of it. _So two hunters, an angel and the King of Hell live together in a Bunker. Soon, an angel and one of the hunters start a relationship..._ Like a beginning of a bad joke. How did this even happen?

There came and incredibly loud moan.

 _"SHUT UP, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"_ Sam shouted. If this was how it was going to be from now on, he'd better search an apartment for him and Crowley. There's no way he's gonna let him rot in here with this constant shouting. That's worse than any kind of torture.

Finally, he managed to fall asleep with his last thought being " _Jesus."_ He, thank God, didn't know that the shouting, screaming, bed bumping into the wall was going to go on for another two hours.

He also didn't know that he was indeed witnessing the very beginnings of their relationship. He only realized that when he found his brother in Castiel's arms next morning in the kitchen, burning their breakfasts because they were too busy making out.


End file.
